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Mother
Can you hear the angry whispers in the air like me?
Can you even fathom the debris that piles up and makes the ground scream for relief?
When the depths of the Earth are drowning so deeply in trash that the grass can't even grow and the flowers can't even last.
When the air is so thick that you can't breath and the grime is so tangible that it sticks to your sleeve.
I wish I could shout from the rooftops to get people's attention
But we're all rats and vampires and no one will listen.
Draining our mother dry and throwing our resources away
And when it's all gone, I know you'll all say
What have we done? What can I do?
But it'll already be gone and we'll already be through.
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